Page 45 of Scoring Slater
"Definitely. New friends." He clinked his glass with Ty's a took a sip. Uncomplicated superhero discussions were something he could do, and offer Ty. The guy looked like he needed a friend, and if Slater were honest with himself, he could use one too.
He turned the discussion to speculation on the next blockbuster movie installment of the one comic book franchise due to come out in the spring. Ty livened up as they chatted, then showed Slater his online art portfolio which included several sketches of superheroes and villains. They guy was a talented artist.
Ty bought the next round of drinks. He lifted his new glass and declared, "To moving on."
"To moving on." Slater echoed the words and lifted his beer, but the thought saddened him. Moving on…
Was it truly time?
He missed spending time with Noah. Missed laughing over things and making tea. Missed texting him with random nonsense when they were in different sections of the apartment. Missed driving to the rink together. Missed holding him tight. Best friends, teammates, roommates, boyfriends… out of four, they were down to one.
He wasn't ready to fully let go or move on, but he didn't see a way to make things work.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The light from the TV flickered through the darkened room. Noah laid across the couch, beer in one hand, remote control in the other. He clicked through channels and stopped on one showing highlights of the hockey games on the west coast. Nothing held his interest. His body was worn out, partly due to taking a few hits during the game earlier in the day and logging more ice time than usual, and partly due to emotional exhaustion over the situation with Slater.
The apartment wasn't the same without him there.
Nothing was the same.
The buzzer rang, interrupting his musing. He rolled off the couch and answered it. "Yeah?"
"It's Vince, Joseph, Celek, and Leo."
He nearly asked why they were there, then he remembered: book club night. "Come up."
Damn it.
He flicked on lights and surveyed the apartment. And cringed. There was too much to do and not enough time.
A quick rap of knuckles against the door announced his friends' arrival. He dragged his hand through his hair and opened the door. "Hey. Um, I forgot about this and I'm not prepared."
Celek gave him a once-over and extended his arm to hold the others back. "Do you want us to go? We can go."
"It's fine. Come in."
They trooped past him, removing coats as they walked down the hall.
Vince stopped at the doorway between the kitchen and living room and whistled low. "Uh, how are things?"
There were dishes in the sink. Mail, half-empty water bottles, and books cluttered the counter and island. A pizza box and forgotten mug on the coffee table. He hadn't made his bed in two weeks. And he was wearing an old hoodie of Slater's that he'd found in his closet. "Not great."
No kidding," Leo muttered.
Joseph draped an arm around Noah's shoulders and guided him into the kitchen. "Sit down. I'll make you some tea."
"It's my place. You're the guests."
"Sit down, Noah." He placed a hand on his shoulder and pressed until Noah sat on the barstool. "Let us help you."
Joseph filled the kettle, Celek investigated the fridge, Leo started rinsing dishes, and Vince disappeared into the living room. He returned a few moments later with the pizza box and mug.
Noah dropped his head into his hands. He was beyond embarrassed. "You don't have to clean up after me."
"This pizza isn't from today, is it?" Vince lifted the lid and wrinkled his nose.
He shook his head. "Are you hungry? I can order something."
